He trapped me in the dark of the empty big-top, his slender form towering over mine.
“It was stupid, what you did. Unpracticed tricks get people killed.”
“Yes sir.”
“I have spoken to Luka about you and I want you to understand this perfectly. If you endanger anyone in this circus, you’re out. Am I clear?”
“Yes sir.”
“Good.”
After he stalked away, I knew one day he would kick me to the curb. Before then, I had to have an act worthy of Rouvelle. I was going to stay in the spotlight. I wanted people to look past the scar on my face and see what I could do. Deep down, I knew there was just one person I wanted to see me, but he couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. Luka and the kids are the nearest thing I have to family now. I would have to accept that some things aren’t meant to be.
***
That night I did my act with no flourishes, and was off to help sell trinkets to the crowd with some of the other kids. After that people would filter out and the adults show would begin, which meant it was time for me to change and go to the costume trailer.
The late show after our regular one ran one night out of the five we would stay and featured nearly nude contortionists and some of the more frightening acts. A fire eater, snake charmer and the Human Hammer. We got others sometimes too, but it wasn’t for the faint of heart, or the eyes of children. Everhart didn’t seem to like running the late show, but the circus didn’t run any big names so—we needed the money.
Another reason to get more daring. If a single act got rave reviews, the word would spread and the circus would make more money. Which would draw attention to me. Put the spotlight, on me.
And who would look for me there? I’d be safe in the limelight. No one would hurt me again.
***
On our final day in that town, I had shown Bessie I could do the cartwheel and somersault perfectly if I was on the high-wire or the low-wire and she gave Everhart the go ahead for me to add it in. The night’s applause was overwhelming, but it still wasn’t enough. Any good tightrope artist could those things; I had to prove I was exceptional.
As I hurried out of my costume, I caught my reflection in the mirror. With the adrenaline from the performance still pumping through my veins, I swore I saw the mask’s smile widen.
I took it off and put it in its box with more haste than I usually did. Scrubbing my face clean of the garish make-up I’d worn to replace a sick clown.
In a loose, gingham dress and canvas shoes, I hurried out of the tent to miss the crowds that would block my way to the costume trailer, and there was a pile of tights to mend still.
There was a little rain starting to come down, but the sky threatened worse. I’m a graceful person by trade, so when I tripped, I was surprised until I saw someone had helped.
The greaser from town. He smiled nastily. “Eva, isn’t it?”
He brought friends. Two of them jerked me to my feet.
“What do you want?”
“That brat that was with you the other day, where is he?”
“Mick? How should I know? Why do you want to know?”
“He scratched up my ride,” with a swagger and menace he flicked open the knife he’d concealed in his right hand.
“I don’t know. He could be anywhere.”
X stepped closer, the knife glinting in the light from the string lights overhead. He pressed the edge to my neck. “Do better, or I’ll give you a scar you’ll never forget.”
“Take a closer look buster, someone beat you to it.” I turned my face so the light fell on my cheek. “You don’t scare me. And I don’t know where he is.”
He traced the heart on my cheek with a calloused finger. He was shaking, his nerve failing.
“I’m fourteen. You like terrifying abused little girls?”
“I—”
“You want to know how I got it?” His eyes looked too bright in the light. “My mother…she held me against the floor. She took a kitchen knife and carved this into my face. I suppose you’re a real big man, picking on me.”
“I—”
“Either let me go, or I scream and the whole circus comes running.”
He was just a coward with a knife. I’d seen real monsters. He didn’t scare me.
“Let’s go, we’ll find the brat on our own.”
His goons let go and they walked away. Mick would be safe, he had large brothers and hid dad had a shotgun. Despite my bravado, I felt my knees shake and buckle under me. The feel of his knife reminded me of that night. When my mother snapped, pressing me to the cold tile floor while she—and I screamed.
The rain started to fall harder, sticking my hair and dress to my skin. I felt a sting of pain at my neck and reached up, my hand coming away smeared in blood. The blade had been very sharp. It was just a knick, but and the blood…
The rain was cold, but my tears were hot against my cheeks. I drew my knees up to my chest, burying my face in the wet fabric.
Sometime later, warm hands lifted me into large arms. Luka.
“It’s okay, Eva,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”
He took me to his trailer, wrapping a blanket around me and putting a towel on my head.
“You want to talk about it?”
I shook my head—but that was a lie. I did want to talk about it. “I…” I touched my face, fingers finding the difference between the scarred and unscarred flesh. “My mother did this.” I looked up. “She held me down and carved into my face. She said she loved me. The whole time, she just kept telling me that she loved me.
“I was afraid she would kill me.”
His arms wrapped around me, and I felt so small. I wished my father was the one holding me. But he, like my mother, cared little for me. I hadn’t known him, nothing beyond his name.
“I am so sorry, Eva. No one should have to go through that. You’re father..?”
“My parents didn’t get married. My mom’s family didn’t like him…or something. So when I ran away, I tracked him down. I wanted to tell him who I was but—” Could I tell Luka? What would he do? “Don’t tell him, promise.”
“I promise. But who am I not telling?”
“I tracked him down; to this circus…we look a lot alike. I didn’t expect that. I chose the high-wire because of him.”
“Everhart.” Luka’s voice concealed his surprise.
“Yeah.”
“He doesn’t know.”
“No. I don’t want him to know.”
Luka sighed, “If that’s what you want.” There was the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. I laid my secrets, my pain bare in front of him. What was he supposed to say?
“Everybody has secrets, Eva,” he whispered. “I do, and I know your father does. I’ll keep your silence…but he deserves to know.”
I closed my eyes. “If you think—if you think he needs to know. If I leave or…something happens. Do what you think is right.”
“I always do. Now, why don’t we get you in warm clothes? I don’t want you to catch something.”
That night I slept on the spare bed in Luka’s trailer. We heard news the next morning about the Viglio’s beating up some thugs—I knew Mick would be okay. Luka’s desire to keep me from catching something was thwarted when I woke up with a fever. He relayed this to the others and I was stuck in bed.
Being sick meant I had a lot of time on my hands. Luka anticipated that with school work I was behind on. You’d think being acrobatic would give you insight into geometry, but it didn’t and I resented the triangles and their little X’s.
I managed to get better around Piedmont, and Luka revoked my punishment out of pity. Two weeks without performing set my nerves on edge and a hunger for the acclaim was building. But one couldn’t go straight to performing without practice and it was another week before I was back in condition.
I flew through my routine to give it an edge. Faking a few slips and dropping a ball or two. I felt invincible the moment
the mask was on and I pushed my limits with cartwheels and a double front. I should have taken more care but the applause…it shook through me.
Every night we performed I pushed as far as I could and in practice I pushed further. I had to find something that made me the best. I could tumble, juggle, and walk the tightrope. I practiced with torches and knives. No tightrope artist I knew of juggled either on the high-wire.
Multiple lines could give me more options, but we didn’t have the equipment for that. I would have to make do. Fire juggling I practiced alone, and knives only with the older children. I cut my hands, burned my fingers and bruised my whole body but—I had to be the better. I had to be the best act in the show.
After each show I watched my mask in the mirror become more and more life-like and took it off with more and more regret. With it, I could do anything, and as the crowds grew with my daring, I knew it was responsible. It was making me better.
We were fast approaching the biggest stop of our tour. The one night we competed with Rouvelle for an audience. It was Chicago and two stops after we’d be making for winter camp. Luka had promised me a place with him, but if I made the impression I hoped to, I’d be wintering with a bigger crew.
It didn’t matter if Everhart thought the knives were show-ready or not, I had to impress the scouts Rouvelle would send to poach the best acts.
And then—I’d be a star.
***
It was an hour till I went on, but I couldn’t stay still. I was finished with set up, and I paced the costume trailer Marie came running in, panic on her face. “Eva! I’ve torn my skirt!”
Already on edge, I snapped, “And what do you want me to do? Stop being a baby and fix it yourself.”
She started to cry.
“Go away, I’m busy.” I turned away and stalked to the make-up counter. I heard her run out, and in a tiny quiet voice.
“You’re mean, Eva.”
I should’ve cared, but I didn’t. All I could see was my performance. My name in lights. What did it matter if one little girl’s feelings were hurt? I’d gone through worse. What did she have to cry about?
I sat down, taking the mask from its box and stroking the cheek. With it, I would have everything I wanted. I took the time and care with my costume I never had before, ignoring the others coming in and out. My last task was put on the mask.
I took out of the box with care, pressing it my face and tying the knots. I felt ready the moment the knot was tight and my blood buzzed with excitement. The mask’s smile echoed my own and as the act before mine wrapped, I tucked the knives I would juggle around my waist and hurried out.
This was my night to shine.
***
The darkened stands held more people than I’d ever seen in our show before, and they were all cheering. Everything else was unimportant just then. I climbed up to the high-wire, pausing when the light was on me.
“Ladies and gentlemen. May I present the acrobatic, the amazing, the princess of the high-wire, Eva!” Everhart’s stage voice thundered out over the crowd. There were more cheers, but I waited until they settled. With my left foot forward, I eased onto the rope. The walking was easy for me, it always had been.
I did a quick cartwheel to draw out some gasps before flipping onto my hands and swinging down to scare them a bit more. After a sufficient length of dangling, I pulled myself up and settled onto the rope. I walked a bit further and pulled out the first knife and sent it spinning into the air and a second later another, and another until I had four gleaming blades whistling through the air.
The only risk was to my hands, the line was too strong and no one was below me. Close to the end of the rope, I caught them—one at a time—and tucked the away. I made it to the platform and took a bow.
But I wasn’t quite done. With no care for the knives, I pulled off the cartwheel and somersault I had added weeks ago, bouncing into the net.
I climbed out, bowing again to show them I was all right. I took time to bask in the applause and tossed flowers, collecting a few before I scrambled back to the changing room. My heart beat faster than ever and my skin was warm all over from the thunder of the applause. Everhart would yell at me and Luka would lecture—but it didn’t matter.
“That was quite something.” A man stood, smart in a grey suit and shiny shoes, just by the entrance to the changing area.
“Thank you.”
“I’m Mr. Stuart. I work for Rouvelle,” he held out a crisp white card, “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in speaking further? I know Everhart isn’t much for contracts.”
I took the card and pushed up the mask. “No, he’s not.”
“A masked, daredevil high-wire act would do well with us. Let’s say we meet again. How about tomorrow afternoon?”
“Where and when?”
“The diner down the street, two o’clock?”
“Perfect.”
I was going to be a star.
***
That night, Marie didn’t speak to me over dinner. Everhart and Luka both gave me looks that promised trouble but I went to bed feeling special. I was going to make it big, at last.
The next morning, there was an air of danger. Something wasn’t quite right in the circus. Marie wasn’t in her bed. She never woke up first. I shoved my feet into shoes and went out into the early morning haze. Maybe she went for breakfast…
Something…something was wrong. I started to run, and it wasn’t until I reached the Big Top that I knew even where I was going. The early risers stared as I went by and some called out, but I had no time. When my eyes adjusted to the light inside I saw her, a tiny crumpled form in a yellow nightgown.
“Help!” I screamed out the doorway before rushing to her side. “Marie? Marie?”
There was blood on her forehead and hands. I could see in my mind’s eye how she must have slipped off the wire and smacked her head into the side of the net before falling to the ground. She was breathing though. Short, shallow breaths.
“Please be all right…please.”
I heard the sound of running feet as people rushing in from the outside.
Mr. Grant, one of the hands, knelt down to get a better look. “Call an ambulance!” He snapped at the nearest idle person. “Wake Luka and Everhart!” Three youngsters hurried off and the grizzled man looked to me, “What happened?”
“I woke up and she wasn’t there…I had this feeling and…” I shook my head. “She must have fallen. I don’t know what she was doing up there.”
Yes you do. Proving to me she wasn’t a baby.
Luka arrived soon after, and I got out of his way, and everyone else’s.” When the ambulance came to take her, Luka went too. I went back to the trailer and made breakfast for the other kids—hotcakes. I gave them the news and kept myself busy with washing up. Sunk deep in my guilt.
I tried to distract them all with stories and games. It was well past dinner when Luka came home, without Marie.
Before anyone could ask, “She’ll be okay. A bump on the head and a broken wrist. They’ll release her in a couple of days.”
The relief struck me to the bone, and I sagged a bit. I was so sure she was hurt really bad.
“It could’ve been worse. Eva, I need to talk to you.” He left the trailer, and I followed him back to his own. The door closed behind me with a snap.
“I know why she tried that trick.”
“I’m sorry Luka—I shouldn’t have—”
“What’s done is done Eva. Apologize to Marie.”
“Of course, I will.”
“You’ve been acting strangely, Eva. Not just to Marie either. You took Bess’s practice slot, you haven’t done any schoolwork and overall, you seem to think you are the star of the show. That stunt last night could have gotten you seriously hurt. You know how Everhart feels about performers changing their shows without letting him know. It’s not just a quirk; it’s to keep you safe.”
“Everhart is so busy looking to himself; he doesn’t not
ice anything around him.”
“I know you’re upset your father isn’t what you expected, but don’t you dare take that out on the rest of the circus. People are going to be watching us after what happened to Marie. The police are asking questions.”
Questions? I’d be discovered. They’d send me back to my mother…and I’d missed my appointment with Mr. Stuart. I had to call him.
“I have to go. I have a phone call to make,” I pulled open the door. “I am sorry about Marie, Luka, I am.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you weren’t the same person, Eva,” he called after me. “You need to think about your priorities!”
I was. I really, really was.
***
I rescheduled with Mr. Stuart, who had already heard about the accident. I was to meet him after I saw Marie at the hospital, at a little restaurant just a street down. He seemed excited to talk to me and seeing as he agreed to reschedule, I was sure it was genuine. More, I’d called Rouvelle to ensure he was who he said he was.
You couldn’t be too careful.
Marie was awake when the whole troupe of kids and Luka…and surprisingly, Everhart, arrived in her room.
“Oh, Marie.”
She had a bandage around her head and a splint on her left wrist.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you. I didn’t mean it.”
“It’s okay. I’m the one who did something really stupid.”
I’d scrapped together a gift anyway, and gave it to her. It was a patchwork, stuffed monkey. The nose was a bit off, but it was a last minute sort of thing.
“Thank you.” She smiled. “I love him. I’ll call him Chester.”
“I—I’ve got to use the bathroom.” I ducked my head and hurried out. Now, I just had to make my appointment and get back without raising suspicion. I couldn’t take too long. I felt a small twinge of guilt but—Marie would understand.
***
“It’s a test contract. You work with us on your act between here and our next stop and when we get to the New York show we’ll debut the act. If it goes well, we’ll write up a more long-term contract.”
The piece of paper in front of me was still offering more money than I’d ever earned. I couldn’t find anything about it I didn’t like or couldn’t live with. I picked up the pen and signed.
He smiled, “I’ll see you at Rouvelle in two days.”
“Right,” I nodded. “See you then.” I flashed a smile and hurried out of the restaurant.